


what seems to be the ossifer, problem?

by Psuedorabbit



Category: Kuroko no Basuke | Kuroko's Basketball
Genre: Aomine is a cop, Cop AU, Drinking, Fluff, Implied Aomine Daiki/Kise Ryouta, M/M, Officer - Freeform, Slice of Life, aomine wants that boy to be his bride, kise is just a model
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-05-18
Updated: 2016-05-18
Packaged: 2018-06-09 04:37:31
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,712
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6890509
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Psuedorabbit/pseuds/Psuedorabbit
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>in which aomine is a cop and pulls Kise over for drunk driving. Kise only got shitfaced because his gf dumped him for a coworker and now the baby is broken</p>
            </blockquote>





	what seems to be the ossifer, problem?

**Author's Note:**

> on tumblr I got the request;
> 
> Could I request an Aokise fluffy sfw scenario where it's in the very distant future when they're both living their dream jobs(officer+model/pilot)? Kise drinks himself drunk bc his gf dumped him and Aomine pulls him over. He recognizes him and Kise barely does too before passing out. Aomine takes him back to his apartment and takes care of him + when Kise wakes, he's terrified to find he's in a weird place and you can go on from there :'D Much thanks in advance, your blog is amazing btw ❤️ 

okay I know this is supposed to be sfw, and it is, but imagine drunk sexy Kise demanding the police arrest him for being naughty;

“I have dollar bills” and throws his wallet at aomine

also here in florida a lot of cops can take their squad cars home so for the sake of this I'll be incorporating that into the fic

••••••••••••

Dull, once enlightened golden irises scanned the melting ice in his glass, his vision tracing the wet, rounded edges of the areas that emerged from his drink. What was he drinking again? Who knows. It had to be his seventh, though. If his wallet was anything to go by.

With a sigh, Kise averted his gaze elsewhere to see what this new bar had to offer. Maybe he should have invited Kasamatsu? He was always fun to drink with. His eyes wandered onto his girlfriend or rather, _ex_ girlfriend.

Kise heaves himself from his stool, straightened, glossy golden locks falling into his eyes. They've long since grown glassy, pinkened with impairment and burning with fatigue and last nights sob session.

Kise digs in his pants pockets for his keys, checks for his phone, and makes sure he's paid the bartender and tipped him generously- after all, the poor man had to listen to Kise rambling about his ex, how he caught her in bed with one of the guys that stacked boxes in the storage room at her office place.

A heavy sigh pushes past Kise's chest as he steps outside, frothy evidence of it blowing past his pink lips, and he shivers. His jacket seems paper thin, but whether he's numbed by the cold or emotions, he isn't quite sure- he doesn't particularly know the difference, because isn't it all the same? The absence of feeling? He thinks so. He doesn't think of much though, and he doesn't go to his Corvette without stumbling, neither.

The door handle to the car is cold, and the leather seats chill Kise's skin to the core. He feels alone in the silence. His eyes begin to water, to well with held back tears and emotions. They cascade down his cheeks in salty rivulets, blurring his vision more than it already was.

Kise doesn't turn on the radio, a childish fear that he'll be on the radio, to hear about, _“Kise Ryouta’s girlfriend dumps him for another man! Will he try to win her back, or is she gone forever? Find out tonight at 8!”_

He's almost sick of the popularity, almost sick of how he has to be perfect 24/7 with the perfect girlfriend and the hottest car and clothes and apartment. He hits the steering wheel a few times, honks the horn in irritation as pain ripples up to his elbows.

He starts the car, swerves a little when he thinks he's about to cross over the painted lines on the pavement. Streetlights blind him and obscure his vision, and the people crossing his street in doubles, sometimes triples, aren't doing any justice for Kise either. He feels like he's going to wretch, fall asleep, and cry at the same time. His body aches, his eyes are swollen and sore, and _christ_ , why is it so _fucking loud at 3:54 AM??_

Flashing blue and red lights startle the model out of his thoughts, once again swerving slightly to not cross over the solid yellow lines. He realizes that the cop car isn't passing him or turning, so he pulls over. He doesn't try to hide his appearance, doesn't reach for the bottle of mouthwash in his glovebox and the pack of gum in his console. He simply turns off the car and leans back in his seat, allowing his eyes to fall shut as he practices his breathing.

Moments later, a loud knock is rattling the drivers side window, jostling Kise out of his lucid sleep. He rolls down the window, offering a smile that didn't quite reach his eyes, and didn't quite seem real.

”What seems to be the ossifer, problem?” Kise blurts out, both men silent for a moment before Kise feels his cheeks bloom red. He fumbles to speak, but a low chuckle stops him.

Thick, muscled forearms cross at the top of Kise's window, the man's body weight leaning against the black corvette. A handsome face sticks his way through the window, the scent of cologne invading the alcohol reeking car.

Kise can't help but stare at the muscles exposed under the rather tight fitting uniform.

”You're shit faced, aren't you?” Comes a low voice, and moments after that, there's a glint of familiarity in his eyes.

”Hey, your name's Kise Ryouta, right?” The officer asks, navy orbs searching through gold. Ryouta, from high school! The same man that managed to sink his claws into his heart since middle school.

The color seems to wear from Kise's cheeks, a loud sigh once again passing over parted lips and his head thumps back against the headrest. Oh hell, he's so tired. Tired of bullshit, tired of women, tired of..

The blonde finds himself nodding off in the middle of the conversation, and the officer can't restrain his groan of irritation. He opens the car door, takes the keys out of the engine and collects anything in the car that seems to be of value that's visible, and undos the man's seatbelt. Kise is slumped over a broad chest and shoulder, carted away to his trooper car.

Kise is placed in the back, buckled in. Aomine hopes that there won't be any vomit in his squad car tonight.

Despite this being completely beyond policy as a man of the law, Aomine takes the drunken blonde home with him, rather than a cold and lonely holding cell for the night. Besides, waking up there to find out you've been arrested by one of your past friends is not a very good reunion idea.

Aomine takes care to drive home, constantly checking the rearview mirror to check and see if the man stirred or woken up- he hasn't.

The drive is quiet save for the soft blow of the heater and the cars passing on the street. They make it to Aomine’s quaint little apartment, Kise slung over the man's shoulder while he carried him upstairs and into his home.

The tanned male tosses his keys to the nearby table, flicking on the lights and takes even more care to place Kise onto the worn futon in the living room, and he goes to his medicine cabinet to retrieve a half used bottle of extra strength Tylenol and then to the kitchen to grab an unopened bottle of water, setting both on the glass coffee table.

Aomine's about to leave, about to turn the lights off and return to his room for the night, but he realizes it's a little cold. He goes to grab a few blankets from his own bed -he's a man of many comforters; ask him and he'll blatantly deny it- and drapes them over the limp, lightly snoring body strewn across his couch.

Aomine wonders how his life turned to this, an old love interest drunk and snoring in his apartment. He decides it's a thought process meant for tomorrow, and retreats back to his bedroom for the night.

Morning comes sooner than either men would like, and Kise awakes groggily. Blonde orbs flick around the dim room, noticing furniture that isn't his and a room that isn't his. He couldn't react immediately, his head pounding harder than his heart, and he brings a palm to his forehead, rubbing slowly to try and soothe the skull shattering ache.

Once his body relaxes a little, he notices the heady scent of coffee brewing and the sound of soft movements coming somewhere from his left. It was then that panic began to settle in Kise, eyebrows knitted together and breath shaking some as he breathed in. He notices the pills and water by him, but he doesn't touch them in favor of finding out who this mysterious person was who kidnapped him.

Kise stands slowly, feeling like he just exited a rollercoaster that went in circles. He balances himself, the uneasy feeling in his stomach knotting and twisting uncomfortably. He takes a few steps toward what he assumed was the kitchen, using the wall as a guide.

He pokes a head through the doorway, notices a mop of navy hair and tanned skin. He looks familiar..

Kise clears his throat quietly, eyes traveling up and down the figure sitting at the dining table with a mug of coffee in his hand, his phone in the other. Midnight colored orbs flew upward to gaze into cadmium.

”How'r you feeling?” The low voice inquires, and it feels like they've been staring at each other for years. Kise shrugs a little, shuffles over to sit at the table with a little grin spreading across his cheeks.

”Better, now that I know that it was Aominecchi that took me to his house,” Kise teases, takes the opportunity to get a closer look at the man.

He isn't afraid to reach out, to brush his fingertips along the hardened and angular features of Aomine, as well as the slight stubble on his face. He looked good, as always. Especially in only briefs. Aomine had not put on any clothes this morning, except his underwear.

”Good. You know you're a real dipshit for drinking and driving right? You could have killed yourself, of some other poor bastard.” His words are more serious now, and he leans forward in his seat. Kise doesn't lean back.

Kise can't help but frown in shame, casting his gaze to the floor, a hand scratching at his arm. He was still in last nights clothes, and he felt icky. Maybe he'd ask to use the man's shower.

”I know, I know I don't need you to tell me the law, officer.” He half teases, pretends to forget how he had called Aomime _ossifer_ last night.

”You looked like shit last night,” Aomime begins, watched Kise's face visibly drop.

“I know it wasn't just the alcohol. What's up?” He asks, as if the two hadn't been on a communication haitus for years.

_This would be a long story._

**Author's Note:**

> my blog to request character x character ships is knb-garbage-writing.tumblr.com


End file.
